Recognize
by ClOz-DaTSoul-WrItA
Summary: THIS IS A STORY ABOUT A BOY THAT HAD NO ONE THERE TO LIFT HIM UP OR BE PROUD OF HIM A KID LOOKING FOR A WAY OUT ITS CRAZY WHAT PEOPLE DO FOR ATTENTION PLEASE READ AND REVIEW


**RATED: M for drug involvment and intense scenes **

**DA SCOOP: KID IN NEED OF ATTENTION LIVING IN HELL ITS CRAZY WHAT PEOPLE WOULD DO FOR ATTENTION**

**PLEASE REVIEW AND LEAVE YA THOUGHTS THANK YOU! **

**RECOGNITION**

All he wanted in his life was to be recognized, to be respected, or to just be loved. He received top notch grades but to him report cards slowly didn't mean a thing. He would return to his home where his mother would sit in the kitchen dazed. Her high took control of life; daily highs were the only thing that brought a smile to her face or at least what looked like an image of happiness behind a shallow pale face. His father had walked out on them when he was born. Never to even see his son's face, never to recognize his own blood. One day the boy walked into the apartment the ceiling dripped, the paint on the wall s chipped, rooms visible through large holes formed in wall from angry drunken boyfriends. His mother began to stop worrying about relationships and just worried about the rocks crushed into her pipe. He heard a frail voice coming from the bathroom. He peered around the corner.

"Hey Roberto baby how was school" she mumbled as she rested her head on the toilet. He stepped into the room, he immediately stepped back as he inhaled a foul stench. His mother had thrown up in the toilet. He lifted his shirt over his nose as he quickly stepped in and flushed the toilet. He stepped back quickly and gazed at his mother. From being such a beautiful women to being reduced to the image of a walking skeleton. Roberto just looked away in disgust, as he walked up a flight of stairs to his cramped, overstuffed room. He threw on a pair of head phones while he pulled out a composition notebook and began to rock back and forth on the edge of his bed. He drew letters as swift as water shading and edging away at his street art that was never respected by his teachers. The only thought that was placed in their mind was the thought on gang rivalry. But Roberto loved art no matter what anyone had to say it was his only escape from his daily problems and frustrations. It finally snapped when he peered at a corner of the floor where his spray cans laid. He had the perfect plan to get up and be recognized.

Everyday he would walk home and take a shortcut through a train crossing; up high above it was a tall billboard that could be seen from all directions, from the train, to the streets, and could be seen from the highway. For days he would plan out the time route and technique. Everyday he would walk by and in vision his tickets toward respect. Something that was hard to receive in the streets of New York. The night finally came be stuffed his bag with thick markers large stencils and he tucked two cans of spray paint on the side pouch of his bag. He threw on dark jeans, a black hooded sweatshirt, and tied a bandana over his mouth and nose to conceal his identity. He grabbed his bag and walked down stair and out door completely ignoring the smell of dirty laundry and week old Chinese food. The sky was dark as he left at 11:00 pm; he ignored familiar faces that tried to pear into his hood to get a second look. He would just turn his head and keep walking. He quickly started to speed up his pace as he began to come closer to his destination. He ran through back yard knocking over flower pots and yard decorations.

He finally faced one of the few nerve racking obstacles. He had to hop the side fence of a police station. He huddled down low as he quickly shifted through the parking lot. It was quiet and empty he noticed his breath as he exhaled while he would stop and listen for foot steps and pulling in police cars. He would glance over the top of the hood of the police cars and check to see if it was clear. He finally shuffled over to the fence. He jumped on, placed a foot in one hole and then the other. He took another step and slipped, he began to struggle to pull himself up. He heard a car coming around the corner he didn't dare look back. He quickly threw one foot at the top of the fence and jumped over. The only thing between him and the billboard was an open field. He walked for a few minutes and peered up at the billboard high above the high way. It looked as if it touched the sky. He slowly walked toward the ladder that seemed to have no end as he began to climb away. Sweat dripped down from his forehead he blew his face off, he didn't dare remove his hand from the ladder. He finally stepped onto a small, narrow platform. He placed his bag down and turned to see the speeding cars on the highway and the city far below. Drivers pointed and stared as they passed by the blank billboard. Roberto turned his back away from the traffic as the wind sped up. Butterflies quickly formed as he almost fell over the edge of the support bar. He pulled out his marker and stencils and laid the layout out.

It read "RECOGNIZE" in sharp graffiti letters. He then laid the background down. He finally reached for the side of his bag to grab the spray cans but they weren't there. He knew he put them in the bag, he began to think back.

"The station damn!" he shouted in a frustrated voice. He remembered the fence and that they must have fell out when he leaped over. He slowly climbed down the endless ladder. He ran to the fence and jumped over. He scanned the lot there was only one police car parked right in front of the cans. He slowly hunched over and crept close and slowly reached for one can. He looked up and in an instant the headlights of the car turned on and the engine revved up. Roberto's eyes widened as he quickly took off out of the parking lot and around the corner he ran with all his strength, with the sound of the police sirens slowly creeping up. He felt as if his lungs where going to collapse, he suddenly tripped and hit the floor. The officer quickly stepped out of the car and began to shout while pulling out his gun.

"Don't you move kid, I swear to you kid don't you move. Let me see your hands kid!" while reaching for his radio. Roberto slowly gained consciousness and put his hands behind his back. "I repeat dispatch…ya we have a situation please send backup….alright….ya another hoodlum spraying up the city." He said while hooking his radio back onto his shoulder strap. "Alright kid get up, come sit over here by the curb and we'll have a nice little chat." He shouted while helping him to the curb. The officer was about to speak when his radio began to beep "you stay right here you hear me right here, he said while pointing to the curb. The officer walked to the other side of the car and began to talk. Roberto glanced down the street he recognized where he was not far from his house. He looked over to the officer that was busy giving information about what happened. He thought to himself he wasn't planning on going to juvy. He quickly sprung up and took off down the street. A crossing between tracks and another rode was far up ahead it was a crossing that could make the difference between freedom and confinement. The officer quickly followed pulled out his gun and shot twice to near misses. Tears slowly stared dripped down his face as he heard the gun shot close behind him. Finally one bullet went through his left shoulder as he let out a painful cry he tumbled but continued to run. The crossing began to light up as the white and red bar was slowly started coming down. All hope for freedom was lost the officer quickly tackled him, pulled his hands behind his back and slammed on a pair of handcuffs. "So you think this is some kind of game kid don't you, well you ever played tag kid because you're it!" he shouted while whipping the back of his pistol across the back of his head. He pulled him up "I'm tired of kids like you messing up the city right after hard working folk like us fix all the damages"! He said angrily when all of a sudden he grabbed and pushed Roberto onto the tracks in anger and in an instant a train flew by. The thud of Roberto's body was so sudden it was quickly replaced by the sound of the screeching train brakes. The train passed to reveal the officer's back up standing on the other side of the crossing. He quickly dropped his pistol as he stepped back and began to cringe and stutter.

**THE VERY NEXT DAY…..**

The television was blasting as his mother got up and walked out of the room. "Today our top story, officer in pursuit of juvenile vandal kills vandal during chase. Officer Sanchez is awaiting trial on case. But by recent DNA evidence shows the vandal was actually his son, more on our top story when we come back from these messages." His mother slowly passed by the TV turned it off. Without even knowing she lit her pipe, sat back, inhaled the smoke into her lungs while letting out a small cough and finally began to lean her head back releasing her twisted signs of pleasure.


End file.
